The Gryphon's Lair

by Kelley Armstrong

  With the four wargs this morning, we stood a chance, especially once Dain and Alianor had come to help. With nine? That is not a fight we can win.

  I glance toward the river.

  “Uh, they can swim, Rowan,” Alianor says.

  “Yes, but can they swim and fight at the same time?”

  She shoots me a quizzical look.

  “Sunniva?” I say. “Can you fly?” I point at the sky.

  She whinnies.

  “Okay, then I need you to—”

  She drops, startling me, but she’s only bent her front legs. Then she nudges Jacko.

  “You want…?”

  I lift him up with one hand, the other still clutching the sword. I know she’s saying to put him on her back, but the thought terrifies me. What if he falls? I won’t be there to save him.

  “He can’t swim, princess,” Dain says. “And you can’t fight with him on your head.”

  Jacko hops on Sunniva’s back before I can make up my mind. He takes up position, like he would with my mare, at the base of her neck, claws dug in. Then he grabs her mane in his teeth and glances at me as if to say, “See? I’ll be fine.”

  I open my mouth, but just then, one of the nearest wargs feints our way, and Sunniva runs. He tears after her, but she’s in the air long before he gets close.

  “River!” I say. “Retreat to the river!”

  We back up, weapons at the ready. The wargs match us step for step. When one breaks ranks, an arrow clips it in the shoulder and the beast stumbles.

  We reach the river, and with it comes the most dangerous part of my plan. The wargs can’t fight in the water, but neither can I. I scoop up a rock as I sheathe my sword. Then we’re in the river, still backing up until, over my shoulder, I see deep, fast-flowing water.

  “Find something to hold!” I say. “Don’t let yourself be carried away.”

  There’s a partially submerged log to my left, and I sidestep there. I grab it and ease into the deeper water. Alianor does the same. Dain finds a rock he can brace himself against. Malric stays out of the deep current.

  The wargs approach with care. They’re in the water, making their way toward us. The river swallows their legs and then reaches their chests.

  They sense a trick, but they can’t figure out what it is. Finally, the one Dain struck with an arrow gets impatient. It lunges at Alianor as another comes at me. The current grabs them both and sends them whirling downriver. Another warg lunges at Dain and then swirls away.

  I move along the log as fast as I can. I’m at the end of the log when Alianor yells, “Rowan!” I turn as the alpha female hits the log. She leaps and hits me in the shoulder, and I tumble into the river.

  Before I can blink, the current grabs me. I thrash, trying to catch a log, a rock, anything, but I’m in free-running water, and all I can do is gasp for breath.

  Just breathe. That’s enough. Breathe and wait. You’ll hit a shallow spot where you can get out. Don’t panic. Just—

  A hand grabs my leg, and relief washes through me. I must not have been moving as fast as I’d thought, and Dain or Alianor has caught my—

  Teeth clamp down on my leg, so hard I scream. Water rushes into my mouth. I choke, sputtering and kicking, and I’m still slamming through the water, the current rushing over my face.

  Whatever has my leg…is in the water with me.

  Visions of the ceffyl-dwrs flash, and I have to fight not to rip my leg free. There are teeth embedded in it, and I do not want to tear it away, but if I don’t, the beast will devour me and—

  It is with a flicker of relief that I catch a glimpse of gray fur. Not a ceffyl-dwr.

  Then I realize what it is. The alpha female. She fell in with me, and she has my leg clamped in her powerful jaws as hot blood wells over my ice-cold skin.

  While we hurtle downstream, I use my free leg to kick at her head. It makes contact, and fresh pain rips through me, but I kick again. She lets go, only to grab my tunic instead.

  I yank the rock from my pocket and bash the top of her head. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see a black warg racing along the shore. I want it to be Malric. I desperately do. But I know at the speed we’re going, he couldn’t have caught up. It’s one of the wargs that fell into the river.

  I lose sight of him as I’m tossed and turned, barely able to keep my hold on the rock, much less aim it at the alpha warg. Luckily, she seems to be scrambling, too. Panicked claws rake down my side. I kick her without even trying to as I struggle to keep my head—

  A yelp, and the alpha warg’s body bashes into mine. I slam off a rock and ricochet back, the water roiling as it hits rapids. Something strikes my leg. I catch a glimpse of gray paws clawing at the air, a muzzle flying up, opening in another yelp and—

  I’m falling. Tumbling, a torrent of water hitting my face so hard I can’t breathe. I flail, but there’s nothing under me as I tumble over a waterfall.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I smack into water again, and my body plummets down, water closing over my head. My fingers brush fur. Claws scrape my bare arm. My arms and legs churn wildly, but there’s nothing here except water.

  I can’t breathe. I’m underwater, and I can’t breathe, and I don’t even know which way is up. The world has gone pitch-black. When I kick, my foot brushes fur again. It’s the warg, but she’s struggling, too. Her nails rake my arm, and I push away from her.

  My chest feels like it’s going to burst. I’m panicking, clawing and kicking as wildly as the warg. Her paw strikes my cheek hard, and my mouth flies open, water rushing in as I start to choke.

  As I try to get away from the drowning alpha, she smacks my back. Another blow and another. My vision blurs. Then suddenly, I see light above, and I don’t know if it’s real or not, but I rise toward it.

  I keep swimming, and the warg keeps pushing me. I really do see light, way above, but then it dims. I keep kicking and pushing toward it, my lungs on fire.

  The warg pushes harder now. Then I’m flying through the water so fast I gasp, swallowing more and—

  My head breaks the surface. Air hits me, and I gasp, sputtering and heaving.

  I’m still rising, though. I’m above water, my arms treading, and the warg continues propelling me upward…

  My hands touch seaweed. Long strands running through my fingers. I pull away, but the strands wrap around my fingers even more, and it’s like yanking against wire and—

  One hand flies free, and I lift it, knowing what I’ll see. Even when I do, my heart thuds so hard I gasp like I’m underwater again, my lungs seizing.

  Two long strands of dark-green horsehair wrap around my fingers.

  The ceffyl-dwr’s head bursts from the water, ears first, streaming water, and then its mane, whipping, wet strands hitting my fingers and sticking. The beast rises beneath me, and I’m astride it, my hands wrapped in that sticky mane.

  A bard’s song crashes through my head. The tale of a maiden who spied a ceffyl-dwr on the bank. When it bent to drink, she climbed onto its back, and it plunged into the lake, mane wrapping around her hands, holding her fast as the beast dove, taking her to a watery grave.

  I flail, and my hands come free, and I topple sideways off the ceffyl-dwr, plummeting into the water. Cold water. Ice cold. As the water closes over me, I gasp.

  Then a warm, solid body pushes me up again, and this time I don’t fight. I wrap my numb arms around its neck and hold tight until we break the surface and I can breathe.

  The ceffyl-dwr twists to look at me, emerald eyes meeting mine with a snort of annoyance, as if to say, “Jump off again, and I’ll let you drown.” I blink hard, my vision still fogged. Then I make out the white blaze on the beast’s nose. It’s the young stallion.

  I lift my hands. The ceffyl-dwr’s mane rises with them, but they aren’t glued to it. The strands are just we
irdly sticky, and I marvel at that before shock clears from my brain, and I realize I’m astride a ceffyl-dwr. A ceffyl-dwr swimming fast through a lake. I crane my neck to see a mountain towering far to my left, the top white with snow. Behind me, there’s a waterfall where the river feeds into the lake. That’s what the alpha warg and I tumbled over.

  As we near the shore, I try to slide off, but the ceffyl-dwr shoots from the water, and I hold on for dear life as he gallops along the lake edge, water spraying.

  A flash of something pale ahead, and I remember the alpha. Then an equine scream rings out…one that does not come from the ceffyl-dwr. The ceffyl-dwr stops so abruptly that I’m glad for his sticky mane, or I’d have shot clear over his neck. There, charging toward us, is Sunniva, her eyes alight with fury.

  I scramble off the ceffyl-dwr, dropping the last few feet to land on my rear. I leap up and dart into Sunniva’s path, waving my arms.

  “It’s okay!” I call. “I’m fine!”

  She aborts her charge, swerving, and on her back Jacko sways. I lunge, ready to grab him, but he has a firm hold. Sunniva turns on the ceffyl-dwr and paws the ground, snorting.

  The ceffyl-dwr stares, his eyes wide, not a single muscle twitching. He’s wondering, I’m sure, at this pegasus with the strange jackalope-shaped growth on her back. But then Jacko jumps into my arms, and the ceffyl-dwr’s gaze stays riveted to Sunniva. She stops pawing and snorting, and tosses her head, her roan-red mane rippling, front hooves tapping the ground in a two-step before she turns away from him with a sniff.

  The ceffyl-dwr keeps staring, with a look that reminds me of when Mom would come out dressed for a ball. Dad would be there to escort her, and he’d stare just like this. When I was little, I’d whisper, “It’s Mom,” because he honestly didn’t seem to recognize her. He’d smile and say, “I know. Isn’t she beautiful?” and I’d roll my eyes and say, “She’s always beautiful,” and think that my father could be very silly sometimes.

  That’s how the ceffyl-dwr stares at Sunniva. She tosses her mane again and then ripples her wings, showing them off.

  See what I have? You don’t have these, do you?

  In response, the ceffyl-dwr ripples his gills, which I think are a very fine feature indeed, but Sunniva only sniffs, unimpressed. She starts eating grass, as if she’s forgotten the ceffyl-dwr already, but when I reach to stroke his neck, she zooms over and wedges between us to offer her neck for my attention.

  “Thank you for looking after Jacko,” I say as I pat her. Then I do the same for the ceffyl-dwr, thanking him for saving me.

  There’s no sign of the gray alpha. I presume she drowned. Maybe I should say I’m glad of that. I’m not. Nor can I say I’m grief-stricken. Her death means my life, and I can’t regret that.

  My own wounds are superficial, the worst being the cut on my leg, but that has stopped bleeding. I’ll be bruised and battered tomorrow. For now, I’m fine.

  I circle the ceffyl-dwr, looking for evidence of his battle with the older stallion yesterday. I find bite marks, already scabbed over. Since he isn’t accompanied by the mares, I presume he didn’t defeat the stallion. The older ceffyl-dwr must have backed off, like we’d hoped he would.

  I wonder whether the young ceffyl-dwr rescued me because we had helped him drive off the older stallion. Honestly, though, I think he’s just curious. We are a novelty he didn’t get a chance to fully explore.

  As I examine him, he nuzzles my shoulder a little too hard, making me back up and give him a stern look.

  “You’re still wondering how I’d taste, aren’t you?” I say.

  He blinks, the picture of equine innocence.

  “You bite me, ceffyl-dwr, and I’m unleashing him on you.” I point at Jacko. “And this…” I draw my sword enough for him to see it. “Even worse, I’ll take her away.” I point at Sunniva.

  Of all the threats, I think the last one would be most effective. He hasn’t stopped watching the pegasus. He keeps nickering and trying to touch noses with her…and Sunniva keeps backing away. I feel kind of sorry for him. I will feel much less sorry for him if he nibbles me.

  I find a few strips of meat in my pocket. They were dried…before the river plunge un-dried them. I hold them out, and the ceffyl-dwr sniffs and then slurps them up. Sunniva notices and trots over, snuffling my pocket. I show her the last strip of meat. She whinnies in horror and prances off with Jacko to play.

  “Okay, you two,” I call. “We need to get back to the others.” I glance at the ceffyl-dwr. “I have no idea what to do with you, but I suppose you’ll decide that for yourself.”

  I look at the waterfall. It’s on a hill that doesn’t look difficult to climb. I have no idea how far I traveled downstream, but at least the waterway gives me a clear path to follow.

  As for the others, I’m trying not to worry about them. Dain and Alianor have Malric, and they were handily fighting off the wargs when I last saw them. With the alpha gone, it should have been easy to send the beasts running.

  We start around the lake. Sunniva trots along at my one side, while Jacko bounds on the other. The ceffyl-dwr follows right behind Sunniva, and if he gets too close, she kicks backward without losing a step. When one of her hooves makes contact, he decides following me might be wiser.

  We’re halfway around the lake, walking the thin strip of land between the water and the foothills of that glacial mountain. When I see white in the sky, my tired brain spends one heartbeat thinking it’s Sunniva…who is right beside me. Then I see the wide body and my brain flips to “Tiera,” and I slump, overcome by a wave of exhaustion. If we went through all this, only to have her escape the nanny gryphon and come after us…

  The beast dips low enough to block the setting sun. It is indeed a gryphon. A grown one. The nanny? I want to believe that. Every bone-weary bit of my body desperately wants to believe it’s the nanny gryphon, just checking on us. Then I see the dark-brown fur.

  It’s a huge male gryphon.

  I spend two heartbeats paralyzed. My mind goes blank, as if too tired to process this, and also too tired to believe it.

  No, we’re fine. The gryphon won’t bother me. I haven’t done anything to him, and it’s late summer, with plenty of game around. One human isn’t worth…

  My gaze swings to the pegasus and ceffyl-dwr with me. Either one is big enough to be irresistible prey for a gryphon.

  Still, maybe he’s just flying past…

  A shriek rends the air, and I whirl to see the gryphon diving.

  I spin to tell Sunniva to fly, but there’s no time. She hears that shriek and lunges into a canter. I grab Jacko and run behind her, with the ceffyl-dwr on my heels. Hooves and feet pound the hard earth.

  “There!” I shout.

  I wave at a cave mouth, dark against the rocky foothill. I run as fast as I can, catching up to Sunniva as she hits rocky ground. Overhead, the gryphon shrieks again.

  I wheel, my sword raised, and the ceffyl-dwr screams as he rears, hooves flashing. A shadow blots out the sun as the gryphon aborts his dive and pulls up short, hovering over us.

  “Sunniva!” I shout. “Here!”

  I veer toward the cave, calling to her as I race up the slope. She follows, nudging my heels until I reach the ledge just outside the cave entrance—

  I stop and stare at solid rock.

  There is no cave entrance.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  I blink hard and then look around wildly, as if in my panic I climbed the wrong slope. I didn’t. What seemed to be a cave mouth is only a shallow depression, no more than five feet deep, the falling sun casting a shadow that made it look deeper.

  I pivot, but the gryphon is right there, hovering. Behind him, the lake stretches out, with no sign of any place to hide.

  I hoist Jacko onto Sunniva’s back and shove her as far into the shallow cave as I can. Then I block her body, my sw
ord in hand. The ceffyl-dwr takes up position at my side.

  The gryphon hovers just over the ledge, his amber eyes fixed on me. Then with a thump, he lands, and the whole ledge quivers.

  I wield my sword. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just leave us alone, please. You’ll find easier prey elsewhere.”

  Inside, I’m sure he’s laughing. There’s a girl, barely taller than his front legs, holding a sword the length of his beak, telling him to abandon his prey. He eyes me. Then his gaze moves to the young stallion, who rears, razor-sharp hooves slashing. To Sunniva, now edging from behind me to snap her teeth at him. And finally he looks at Jacko, on her back, hissing and baring his sharp teeth. The gryphon’s head cocks, as if to say, “Well, this is new.”

  Talons scrape the stone as he takes a step closer. His giant beak opens a little and then clicks shut. His tail whips from side to side like a cat spotting prey. He’s not attacking, though. He’s considering. Assessing whether we’re worth the effort.

  “We’re not,” I say. “We aren’t worth it at all. There’s plenty of food out there.” I slash my sword in warning. “You might get one of us, but it’ll come at a price.”

  He listens, head tilting the other way, like he’s hearing someone speak a foreign language. He knows I’m communicating. I just hope my tone is firm enough to dissuade him.

  I square my shoulders and keep the sword in front of me, respectful yet posing a clear threat.

  “I need you to let us go,” I say. “You made a mistake. You spotted a young pegasus, and she seemed easy prey. She is not.”

  He starts tilting his head the other way. Then he stops. Air whistles through his nose holes. Then he steps forward and stretches his head out, massive beak coming toward me, and all I can do is stand completely still, trusting that the look in his eyes is not anger. His beak is shut. He’s not signaling attack.